There is a city, just like any other. Well, not like all the others. See, it is the capitol city, Gothem. Yeah, there's been many Gothem cities. Within it's walls - the noble stone edifice, hanging precariously over the roaring ocean, held by only a bit of rock - there are many tales. From slave to king, noble knight to bartender, pickpocket to flower seller, they are all entertwined. This is their tale...

To the people of Gothem: We are all embroiled in a great quest for power. It will not be easy. Come, try your strength.

Name: complete nameGuy/gal: in case the name isn't obviousAge:Occupation: job, or hobbiesSpecial Talent:Where you live: palace, stable, docks, etc.Greatest Goal: find happiness, become a noble, get rich...Weapons: sword, bow, hands, dagger... be specific! There are many variants on weaponry.Any family: live with Uncle Joe, girl friend Sally, brother Greg... anyone who may interact with you on a regular basis. Not dead people. Other: anything else

In your first post, please either incorporate the above information, or simply state it in the above format. Also, please give some basic physical descriptions as well as an introduction to your moods (easily aggravated, mopey, optimistic...).

Get ready, let's go!

Last edited by Pascale d'Artagne on Thu Sep 13, 2012 11:18 pm; edited 2 times in total

Name: Zephyre Brunnel (pronounced Zeph- ear Broon-ull)Guy/gal: galAge: 15Occupation: works in Father's tavern, the Golden Dragon. Odd jobs.Special Talent:Where you live: above the tavernGreatest Goal: get away from the tavern and find a life full of love and adventureWeapons: slim, light weight throwing knives. Some experience in hand to hand combat.Any family: Father, who runs tavern. Stuck up really snobbish elder sister, Cilene (Sigh-lean). She is employed by my mother, who is a seamstress, and runs her own well off shop. They both never visit the tavern, and I am constantly out to avoid them, who would have stuck me in the shop as well.Other: learns lots from the tavern's customers.

Last edited by Pascale d'Artagne on Sat Sep 08, 2012 11:38 am; edited 1 time in total

"What'll it be this time Javen?""Ah, t'usual, as allus. Thankee Zeph," Javen nodded before downing half the mug in one gulp. His capacity for drink continued to astonish me. Knowing what he wanted, I had come to Javen mug of ale in hand. Everyone generally ordered the same thing. Smiling lopsidedly, I retreated from his table. "I'll bring another one 'round in a bit," I called back. Pushing my long brown hair back over my shoulder, I deftly wove through the evening crowd. The Golden Dragon was rarely empty, but today was a good day. Mayhap Father will be happy. He was never content, and extremely fickle. The only thing I knew for sure was he hated my mother, despised my sister, and was overly protective of me. The swishing skirts around my feet were evidence of that. Wryly, I lifted a hand full of rags out of an apron pocket, wiping off a recently vacated counter. For some reason, Father was paranoid over my safety. Sure, I spent my days filling men of dubioius reputation with mind numbing drinks, but Father had rules. Like the skirts. Touch the floor, and "no nonsense" as he put it. Returning the rag to my pocket, I felt the familiar lump of one of my daggers. At least I picked up some good skills from this crowd. Roaming the city streets gave you an edge, if you hung with the right crowd. Quickly, I slipped around the counter and seized a couple of empty mugs from those seated at the main counter. "Same all round?" I asked, briefly scanning the familiar faces. Tapping the barrel, I didn't need to hear the response."Yup, and thankee lass." The words came from an elderly man, his unkempt hair contrasting his impeccable clothes and neatly trimmed beard. One by one, I refilled the glasses and gave them back to the owners. That was another rule: always give everyone their glass directly from your hands. Supposedly, it showed I "cared" or something, but I don't know what difference it could make. The hired lass, she didn't have theses rules. Of course, the hired help changed every week or so, but they seemed to get along nicely enough with the crowd. I looked up from the spigot as someone new sat on a stool, emitting a loud squeak. "S'pose ye could get me one of those?" came a lazy voice. I rolled my eyes. "I don't know," I teased, already filling a cup. Next rule: never refuse a customer. "Remember last time Rotoski." The rag tag youth of nineteen, slouched against the counter, large bags under his eyes. He grinned with fatigue, putting out a hand for the glass. His hand shook under the weight of the drink. "Careful," I warned. "You'll clean that yourself." Slurping loudly, he pulled out a copper piece, which I promptly grabbed. "Too tired fer trouble t'day," he got out. "Late night, hence the pay." He gestured a the money, now stowed in my pocket. Rotoski ran with the smugglers, and his work was sporadic and came in bursts. He would probably sleep the rest of the day. I waved a hand at him, dropping the coin into a safe box in the back room. "Good thing. It keeps you and Mikel out of trouble." "Yeah." His eyes suddenly shot open. "Oh, almost fergot. You free later?""Yes!" The old man next to Rotoski chuckled at my enthusiasm. I mock glared, before turning to go out into the common room with fresh drinks. "Mikel says bring the Sera knives," Rotoski called. I nodded, caught up with enthusiasm. Yes! Another knife lesson! Tonight! Mikel was one of the best, but his skills brought employment, so he was busy. Yes! It's been over a week since last time.

Name: (Lady) Alys Lief (Pronounced: Alice Leef)Guy/gal: GalAge: 24Occupation: Lady of the royal court, the Queen's lady-in-waiting, as well as her secret personal knight. Does dealing in the court, both diplomatic and private, waits on the Queen, and does various other things for the Queen, including espionage, recon, and interrogation. Special Talent: Swordsmanship, diplomacy/negotiations, and completely masking emotions at will (When she wants it to be so, it is impossible for anyone to read her, with the sole exception of the Queen and her fiance.)Where you live: Palace. Greatest Goal: Serve the Queen, rescue her fiance from the evil clutches of the King, and someday free the Kingdom from the rule of the King, placing power into the hands of the Queen. Weapons: Primary: Sword. Single-handed, somewhat light but strong and exceptionally sharp. Well-balanced, with lettering engraved masterfully into the blade, reading, "Maelyss", the name of the weapon. Secondary: Knight's dagger with crested handle and sheath. Small enough to stay hidden, large enough to be deadly. Any family: The only people who she has to consider "family" are the Queen and her fiance, Durand. Other: Tall (5'8'') with long, dirty-blonde hair. Hair is wavy, but not frizzy or poofy. Pale white skin. Thin and strong, clearly well fit and in shape. Aqua-green, deep set eyes and a softly pointed jaw-line. Is of noble blood, and thus has the title of Lady.

Name: Cornielius VeronGuy/gal: GuyAge: 18Occupation: I sell random (also useless) things on the street. I'm rather poor, okay, VERY poor.Special Talent: People tend to tell me I blend in with things well. I'm also good at getting from point A to B as fast as I can. I'm also a very, VERY fast runner. Helps a lot.Where you live: Wherever I can sleep.Greatest Goal: Find a girl, make a family, get some money, settle down and be normal so I can stop stealing from people.Weapons: I taught myself in the arts with knives. I use two, roughly 10" long, curved with a barb tip at the end. I etched a simple line in both of them; "Someday, you will never use me again, and that will be the happiest day of your life." They are black except for the edges, which are silver. Any family: Nope. Other: I steal from wealthy, ignorant people. They annoy me, flaunting all the money they have. I've had to murder a few people in my days, they saw me and I can't ruin the reputation I have. Most people think I'm a nice chap who's majorly down on his luck. I get donations a few times, they always make me smile. Tan, about 6 feet. Thin build, but surprisingly strong. Brown hair, very, very dark brown eyes. Almost black, on a good day you can very slightly see my pupils. It changes on my mood. My hair grows wild and mostly unkempt. I usually wear rags for clothes.

"Trinkets here!" I shouted for the millionth time today. It was a regular day in Gotham, not much selling, a lot of people looking at me, then looking away, ashamed at themselves. A few people caught my eye as past targets, the man who's son used to laugh at me and pelt me with rotten fruit. A banker who told me to get out of his town. All of them robbed blind the next day. I ended up giving some of the money to other people I know, Rob and Mark. We usually keep to ourselves. A woman comes up to me, pulls out a purse and gives me a few copper. "Thank you, ma'm. Have a great day and a great life." She smiles and walks away. This is basically how my days happen, then at the end of the day I pack up what few things I have and move to a different location. No one was around, so I took out my daggers and looked at them. "Soon enough, you'll have a new target." I said, thinking about that man. He looked at me, and walked away. A few minuites later, about ten or twelve people started pelting me with stones telling me to go die in the sewer I was from. He was in the corner, smiling. I had a plan for tonight, but for now, I'd best get prepared. That preperation all failed when that woman gave me a few coin and I went to the tavern, and of course, since my.. habit.. I'd become completely wasted on liquor. The last thing I remembered was mumbling about goats.

Last edited by TheBaghead on Fri Sep 07, 2012 11:10 pm; edited 2 times in total

Pushing in a rickety wood stool, I straightened and wiped tiny beads of sweat from my pale forehead. Almost done. True, the evening hours were the busiest, but there was only one hour remaining between me and Mikel the Knife mage. He wasn't really magic, but he was good. Bending down to retrieve a cloth piece from the floor, one of my concealed knives poked playfully at my stomach. For a small fee, in money and services, Mikel had outfitted me with the best set of throwing blades he could find. Sadly, they were'nt designed to be worn with a dress, so I could only wear a few while working in the tavern, and walking with Father. Speaking of Father...I frowned, pocketing the cloth. Scanning the room, I made eye contact with the hired help of the week, but failed to see Father. He usually came out during dinner hour. A sudden crash by the front window brought my head back to the moment, the bustle of the stuffed, stinky tavern. Quickly, I sidestepped a few customers and wrestled into a growing crowd."Move aside...git off....please back up," I responded automatically to the circle of men surrounding the object of interest. Finally wormin my way to the center, I rolled my eyes. Another boy inebriated. He was dressed in rags, showing his thin frame. Raising my voice, I shouted to the men around me, "Alright, I'm going to take him outside. Anyone know who he is?" Everyone shook their heads. "It might be Cornelius," Javen offered. I had no idea who that was, but I still needed to take him outside. Another rule: anyone who passes out drunk is dragged outside. Rain, sleet, or shine. Trodding on a few toes, I squatted at Cornelius' head and lifted him up from under his armpits. "Time to get some fresh air," I muttered to the unconscious boy. Backing up, I made it out the door unhindered, and I dumped him in an alley on the side of the tavern. "Sleep well." From outside, the lights in the tavern glowed, cheerful and lively. I was already transitioning back into the tavern atmosphere, but my slippered feet still felt the shift from rough cobblestone to creaky wood. Just inside the door, my eyes were immediately drawn to another source of trouble. Well, not trouble now. Trouble when Father comes. Inevitably, at some point, the hired help, always some young girl, became over friendly with a customer. Father really disliked it, to put it mildly. That's why the help never stayed long. Most taverns encouraged that kind of stuff. But, Father is weird. Ignoring the girl and her...friend...I went back behind the counter to fill some more cups. To my surprise, Rotoski was asleep on the counter. Javen had vacated his seat next to him and gone into a corner to play cards. One hand filling cups, I prodded Rotoski with a free hand. "Uhh...Guuhhh....I'm awake," he mumbled, straightening and blinking rapidly. "Hey Toski maybe you should go home and rest." About to place a couple of filled mugs before him, I thought better of it and put them on a serving tray. He shrugged, unmoving. "Nah, can't. Remember, I'm banned from the old roost, and the new one...I'm behind on rent."Picking up the tray of drinks, balancing it on a hand, I prepared to re-enter the main room. It was loud, the noise vibrating our loose wooden shutters. "Better find some place," I reminded him. "Wait, you're going to Kel tonight, right?" I raised an eyebrow. What was he up to? "Of course. I never pass up an opportunity."He grinned slowly, but exhaustion wiped it off his face as he stumbled to his feet. "Great. I'll just go upstairs and use your room then. Kick me out when you come back later."He turned to go, but I stopped him. "Wait, use the back stairs." He raised an eyebrow. "Father is coming down soon." Couldn't have him see Toski. "Alright, goodnight." He ambled off to the rear of the building. Stepping into the main room, I almost tipped the drinks as the flustered hired hand bumped into me. "Careful," I said playfully. She looked up with wide eyes. "Sorry Zephyre. Want me to take those?" What has she done? It must be really bad, to make her come and volunteer for something."Okay. Make sure the people pay, if they're supposed to." She nodded, and was about to say something. However, at that moment a heavy voice barged into the room, and she fled with the drinks into the safety of the crowd. "Zeph, where are ye? Ye bum, git yer lazy arse out of m'way." A large meaty hand shoved an grinning patron off to the side. Taking in a deep breath, I exhaled slowly before turning, a small smile plastered on my face. "Right here, Father."

Posts : 35Join date : 2012-08-07Age : 21Location : My fantasy world that I dream of in my head

Subject: Re: Within Stone Walls Fri Sep 07, 2012 11:30 pm

Name: Gisela BergGuy/gal: galAge: 17Occupation: Apprentice to Mr. Diederich, the royal falcon and hawk keeper.Special Talent: Gisela can run well enough, but not fast by any means.Where you live: a small hut near the eyries. Greatest Goal: Immediate: To finish her master piece for falconry, and to thus gain entrance into the Falconer's Society. Long-term: She has a vague idea of becoming the next Head Falconer for the royalty, but she doesn't really like to plan for the future. As she says, "In the future, anything can happen, so why bother preparing for something that isn't guaranteed?"Weapons: Bow and arrow, she has often had to take down game that a hawk only injured.Any family: She had a younger sister that died from cholera. When she was fourteen, she ran away from her house (she never really called it her home) because of the tension between her parents. She hasn't seen them since, and they don't particularly want to see her either. Not anger, just indifference.Other: Gisela has long, gently curling red hair that reaches a little past her waist. her bangs sweep across her face, almost covering her sly, wary eyes. almost no one really knows what color they are, they always seem slightly different. She is of tall height at 5' 9". Her skin is light, with a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks and arms. She is slightly suspicious and never really enjoys talking to other people, save for Mr. Diederich and their discussion of ancient scrolls and the handling of exotic breeds of birds.

I woke up with a massive headache outside of the tavern. "Ugh. I'm such an idiot." I thought to myself as I woke up and leaned against the wall, muttering. I still had.. 12 copper in my pocket. Enough to go buy a drink or two. I've woken up drunk on the side of the road so many times it's become routine. I've left my stuff where I always leave it before I go to the tavern, on the roof of the bank. No one ever looks up there, it's practically my home. The only things on me are my daggers, hidden in my pant legs. Not too much time's passed since I passed out, and I'm feeling rather thirsty. Might as well get another drink while I'm here. I entered the tavern. The smell of sweat and liquor hit me like a train. I went up to the bar and asked for a drink, put out two copper and was handed a large cup of ale. "Didn't you pass out an hour ago?" the man sitting next to me asked, with a hiccup. "Yeah, I guess." "Already up?" "Mhm." I downed the first glass and got another, which lead to a third. Soon enough, I was back blabbering about something I can't remember. I saw the girl from earlier that dragged me outside and smiled. She was cute. Well, at least I think she is. All the liquor is making everyone in the room look amazing. I don't know why, but I had a sudden impulse to take out my dagger, so I did. The man next to me looked at me in horror. I guess I may or may not have gotton into a bar fight and won. It's kind of blurry. Last thing I remember is that girl that dragged me out of the shop drunk shouting at us to break it up and kicking me out, screaming "Don't show your face here anymore!" Ugh. Of course, i'll be back in a few nights when everyone had forgotten about it.

Posts : 35Join date : 2012-08-07Age : 21Location : My fantasy world that I dream of in my head

Subject: Re: Within Stone Walls Fri Sep 07, 2012 11:56 pm

Another hard day... I thought to myself as I finished cleaning out the mews. My hand instinctively held my long cut I had gotten from a bird that day,"You should put some bandages on that." The soft scholarly voice came from my boss, Mr. Diederich as he walked toward me."Aye. That Eagle Owl was in a right fit state.""Aye..." He responded absent-minded, "I wonder what's got into the creature.""Yeah..." I muttered looking at the agitated beastie. "I had better get going into town, we're going through the chickens and voles like mad." I said finally."Aye..." was the only response I got."Well, I had better be going, then.""Oh. Yah, be careful 'round the pubs, don't want you putting out another drunkard's eye like you did last time." He chuckled slightly.I smiled to see that he was out of one of his morose moods, and trotted off to the butcher's shop.

I started to travel back to the old shack, to get onto the roof of the bank to get my stuff. I did my usual thing, climbed up the wall of the abandoned shack, then hopped onto the roof and made my way to the makeshift tent I had laid out on top of the roof. I have a long day ahead of me. I needed to prepare to steal from this man. I need money, I was running out of what little I had left. One silver, which equates to ten copper, and 3 copper coins. I could afford food for maybe another day. What food do I have, anyway? I have.. A piece of stale bread, some moldy cheese and a canteen of water. I wolfed it all down fast, barely taking time to scrape the mold off of the cheese. I started sharpening my daggers. I was getting prepared quickly. Night fell. It was time to move.

I have the whole city laid out in my mind. With a little bribing, I found out where my target lived. Not far, but far enough to go by rooftops. I'd have to get on top of his house, anyway. Might as well stay up there. I traveled south, hopping off of the bank roof to land on top of a house, running across and jumping. A few people saw me and stared as I jumped across gaps that seemed almost uncrossible. My boots, old and ragged, stomped across roof after roof. I got to the house in little under fifteen minuites. It was a little thing, One story with three rooms. It had a sunroof. Perfect. I grabbed a rope out of my backpack, and a stake. Since there was no where to tie the rope to, I jabbed the stake in the roof. Hopefully no one heard me. I tied a simple knot around the rope and tied it around me. Then, I lowered myself into the house, landing silently. Everyone was asleep. Good. I quickly ransacked the house of everything worth any value, plus a few expensive looking things that I could possibly sell on the black market for good coin. I left a note on the wall, it read "The poor are not to be trifled with. They are much stronger then you are, mentally, and physically." And got out quickly. I untied the rope around my chest and left it. "I have plenty of rope, this won't hurt to leave."

I traveled home by road this time, taking my time. It was a quiet, and uneventful way home. I got back to the roof and laid out what I had. A nice looking vase, roughly 3 gold (300 copper), A gold necklace and a ceremonial sword. I felt the blade. It was terribly balanced, definatly made for looks and not for combat. I put everything away in a little rucksack I have, laid out my blanket and fell into a rather successful-feeling sleep.

Stupid boy, I thought darkly, mopping up the ale stained floor. "Why can't people be satisfied with getting thoroughly inebriated once a day?" I wondered out loud. Some of the old timers around me guffawed, while Javen grinned. "I dunno," he drawled. "He was a young'un. Still hadn't gotten into a routine yet, I s'pose." I smiled at him, picking up my bucket of filthy water. "Glad you've come to no harm." I passed him on my way to the sink. He burped loudly, thumping his clay mug on the table. "Hah, I've got wits about me yet. It'll take more'n a young sprout off his rocker to do me in." I tramped into the back room, nodding to a request for wine. Dumping the murky filth down a pipe, I opened the cellar door and descended into the darkness. Grabbing the first wine bottle I found, I came back up the cold stone stairs. Closing the door, I was surprised to hear breathing behind me. No one goes into the bar! Quickly, I spun around, wine bottle transformed into club on the spur of the moment. "Hello," spoke an unfamiliar face. Embarrassed, I lowered the bottle. Good thing bad vintages aren't spoiled by a good shaking. "Erm, can I help you with something?" The man was twenty something odd years, and he stood with an easy posture, ready to take on anything. I walked over to the counter and pulled out a corkscrew. Crossing his arms, the man leaned on the cupboard behind him. "Yes, actually. I was here earlier, and I happened to misplace one of my friend's handkerchiefs. Have you seen it?"My eyebrows went up. Someone has a lady friend. Controlling my expression, I felt in my apron for the cloth I picked up earlier. "Maybe." From long experience, I was wary of strangers. "Do you have name?" Usually, if folks will give a name, they aren't about to commit a crime.He made a face, but conceded. "Durand." Brief, but it was enough for me."Actually, I did find something. Here you go," I finished, dropping it into his hand. Relief shone briefly in his eyes, before his previous decorum reappeared. He dipped his head slightly, retreating out the door. "Thanks very much." "Strange people, I muttered, picking up the wine bottle and a mostly clean glass. Re-entering the main room, I deposited them at table. Of the four card players, the nearest man looked up, grinning to reveal missing teeth. "Eh, thanks Zeph." "Always a pleasure, Bally," I returned, glancing at his cards. I made a face of mock distress. "Oh dear, I fear you won't do too well tonight." He and his friends laughed. "Ah, don't worry about it. I've got some to spare.""You in on the deal last night then?" Bally, Balthazar, sometimes ran in the same smuggling circles as Rotoski. "Yeah, I s'pose Rotoski told ye bout it." He drew a card and threw down his hand. "Blast, I'm out." He glanced back up. "It's gonna be a good month. Another deal in two days." He picked up the wine and downed it in one long draft. Smiling, I left, clearing empty mugs off a nearby table. Wonder if Toski is in on that one too. Glancing up at the wall, my spirits soared as I realized my shift ended in ten minutes. Father tapped my shoulder, and I jumped belatedly. I try to let him think I have bad reflexes. "Ey, member, ye're to go upstairs on the hour." He pointed a grubby finger to the clock. I nodded."Yes father. I'm glad you have the girl to help you when I go." Father's biggest rule was I was to work from eleven in the morning til nine at night. He never let me work in the other hours. I think he tries to protect me from the worst of the crowd, but.... He doesn't know I actually see them when I go out and roam the streets. Like, he doesn't know I'm actually glad to leave in ten minutes, so I can see Mikel. He grunted in acknowledgement. "Mmmm. Good one, that. Wasn't frightened by the skirmish earlier." With that, he ambled off to a calling customer.

I woke up the next morning, feeling great. Time to sell everything I'd taken from this idiot. I live right next to the entrance for the black market, which is the abandoned shack that I climb to get to the rooftop. I grabbed the vase, necklace, and weapon and went down into the depths below.

I entered the shack and pressed on a false wall, revealing a set of stairs. Activity bustled downstairs. I went in, and was instantly noticed by some of the regulars. "Hey, Cornealius!" "I heard you got into a bar fight, and won. Nice going." I went to my regular store of choice, McArthur's. It was a small stand, but it had everything I needed, from stolen bread to stolen chickens cooking. I stocked up on food, buying a nice meal for now and the essentials for later. Water, bread, cheese, lot of jerkey. I bought a nice looking turkey, precooked and all. My mouth watered. For breakfeast I ended up eating a decent amount, feeling fuller than I've ever been. I spent some time curing the meat for preservation, and selling the stolen items. I sold all three items for 18 gold, a very, very nice load. I came back up on the roof and stashed all my goods. I got down and went towards the butchers.

"Goodnight," I called down the stairwell, forcing sadness into my voice. "G'night Zephyre," Father bellowed back. "See ye in t'morning." "Good riddance," I muttered, trudging up the rickety wooden stairs. Reaching the landing, I turned right and opened my door. "Hullo Toski," I greeted the shadowy figure lighting a lamp by my bed. A moment later, I spun around and stared at the door I had just closed, cursing, "Hang it all, Toski. Can't you just leave them on?" "No," came the muffled reply from behind me. "It is unnatural.""To you maybe." I huffed. What kind of person takes off their clothes when sleeping in someone elses bed? "I call it indecent.""Yes, well, you have been warned," he teased. "This isn't the first time.""Still..." I petered off. "I guess you'll never change your mind." I stared at the swirls on the ceiling. After a moment of silence, I grew impatient. "Geepers, can't you at least be quick about it?""Yes." His voice snaked around my head, coming from right above my ear. An arm followed around my waist. "But then where'd all the fun be?"With a quick twist, I danced out of his playful embrace. "Oh, ha ha." I opened my small chest, pulling out a shirt and pants. Glaring at him, I admonished," Well, your turn." Ignoring his grumbling as he faced the door, I quickly pulled off my dress and put on the new clothes. Grabbing a cloth bag, I reached for the door handle. "Eh, what's the hurry?" Rotoski asked, opening the door. "I'm not missing an opportunity for learning," I answered primly, before breaking into a wide grin. I ghosted down the back stairs, feeling Toski breathing close behind. We maintained silence until making it out the back door and into an alley. In the dusk, I had trouble making out Rotoski's face. "Hey, see you round?" As eager as I was to leave, I couldn't stand to be rude."Yeah. Count on it." He leaned close to whisper, " I've got a surprise for you."He walked off whistling, and, a second later, I loped off the other way, walking swiftly on the deserted back streets. After two blocks of darkness, I entered onto a street with a lamp post in front of a row of residential buildings. Going up to the sixth door, I knocked. My hand rang hollow on the old wood.Without warning, the door swung inwards, revealing Mikel. "Hey Zeph!" he said cheerfully. I entered, taking the candle from his hand to light the hall lamps. "Good to see you Mikel. S'been a while." Treading softly on the unusually thick carpet, I turned around at the end of the hallway, in a large open room. Mikel took back his candle, setting it on a cluttered side table. He grinned, standing deceptively at ease. "Hope you've been practicing." "With who?" I snorted. "The neighbourhood dogs?" Opening my bag, I removed my collection of practice knives. They were identical to the real thing, except they were unsharpened. "Well, no." Mikel seemingly pulled a dagger out of nowhere and spun it around. He let it once again disappear into it's hiding place. "I thought Javen hangs at the Dragon." "Yeah, well, he doesn't like it. Says he needs to conserve his energies." I rolled my eyes. "Whatever." I looked into his dirt brown eyes. "Hey, just means I have more cause to see you." That made him smile. "Well, let's begin." Without further warning, he launched his first attack, a fist launched at my jaw combined with a left handed knife to the ribs. Time to get busy, I thought with satisfaction, successfully blocking.

Last edited by Pascale d'Artagne on Sat Sep 08, 2012 11:34 am; edited 1 time in total

The cool metal at my throat was no longer a surprise. Lowering my weapons, I gulped in air as Mikel also stepped back. His cheerful demeanor hadn't changed a bit throughout the last four hours. "Ready for another go?" he joked, sheathing his blades. Crossing his arms, he stood braced, ready for another attack. I shook my head, all but collapsing on a pile of cushions behind me. I closed my eyes, acknowledging the supporting pillows beneath me. "I'll take that as no," he chuckled. Shoving papers off the top of a chest, he took off his shirt and began removing various knife sheaths. Each one fell onto the wood with a heavy thunk. "I feel awful," I moaned, completely relaxing all of my muscles. Note to self: next time, stop before four hours. "Hey, you did well," Mikel pointed out, more optimistically than anyone else I've conversed with at two in the morning. "Bring some more coin next time, and I can get you some boot daggers." My eyes shot open. "Really?" I asked, temporary enthusiasm holding back fatigue. He nodded, smiling again. My weariness caught up with me again, and my eyes fell closed again. "Can you get boots too?"I heard his voice coming closer. "Yes. Let me guess...Father doesn't approve of boots."I could only barely nod. Sleep approached. "Yeah, I can get them. I'll have to measure your foot."I didn't acknowledge him. So tired.His amused voice floated down to me from where he stood. "You know, that is kind of my bed.""Point being?" I muttered, fighting to stay awake. "Never mind." He picked me up and set me down so I didn't cover the whole makeshift "bed.""I'll wake you up in the morning." The last thing I felt was his warm presence beside me on the lumpy cushions.

Last edited by Pascale d'Artagne on Tue Sep 11, 2012 11:24 pm; edited 1 time in total

Moaning, I rolled over, trying to get away from the shaking hand. "Jus' a few more minutes," I mumbled, face buried in the pillows. The sound of water swishing in a bucket sent me rocketing to my feet. I glared at a smiling Mikel, who held a bucket full of water. "I'm up," I all but shouted. He grinned broadly, settin the water at my feet. "Hey, I wouldn't actually throw it on you. Then all my stuff'd be wet too." "Good point," I agreed, sinking back onto the bed. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me up again. "Hey, you do need to get up. It's almost ten thirty," he informed me. "Gah!" I rubbed my eyes and splashed my face with water. Six hours sleep... "I wish I could live with as little sleep as the rest of the world."Rummaging through a small box, Mikel pulled out some brushes of various sizes. "Well, some people just need to sleep. I'm not complaining," he joked, offering a large, stout bristled brush. His voice sobered. "Who knows what your Father would do if you were late."Dipping the brush in the water bucket, I began the laborious task of brushing out my unruly hair. "Hopefully, we'll never know. Hey, it only takes me five minutes to get back.""Yeah," his voice drifted off. Meeting his gaze, my tired expression countered his thoughtful one. "Hmm." He chewed his lip, absently raking his dark brown hair into submission with idle fingers. "Say five minutes to get there. Five minutes for you to go upstairs and get changed." Oh, I'd forgotten that part. A sheepish smile snuck onto my face. "So, that would leave fifteen minutes for here, except five have already passed." His demeanor lit up. "Fifteen minutes! Imagine the things we could do." Mock groaning, I replied, " I don't know if I could practice any more this morning. I'm still sore.""Yes," he frowned momentarily, before shrugging it off. I handed the brush back to him, which he threw into the corner of the room. "I guess I could measure your feet." "Uh, how?" He knelt down and placed a scarred hand beside my foot, thumb and pinky stretched in opposite directions. His hand was the tiniest bit longer than my foot. "Great, now I can get your boots." Glowing with suppressed cheerfulness, he looked me over. "Let's see. Face clean, hair brushed, knives in bag, all clothes on... You seem to be presentable. He smiled, heading to the door. "Let's go. No sense in staying here.""Wish I could," I said wistfully. "You always teach me so much, but I can never beat you." Answering with a chuckle, he closed and locked his door before proceeding down the steps. "Well, I'm glad you enjoy it. You do learn quickly."Frustration seeped into my voice. "Then why don't I seem to be getting better?" He was silent for the whole rest of the way back to the tavern. We stopped outside the back door. "Zeph," he started, but I cut him off. "No, it doesn't matter. You don't have to give some excuse of how you're to blame or something, like last time." It came out bitter. I was mad at myself, for not being able to master the knives, not being a ble to contain my feelings. "No, it does matter." He said softly. "Zeph, look at me," he gently demanded, tilting my chin with a hand, until my eyes met his. "Look here, Zeph. Besides myself, you have the best knife sense of anyone I know.""What's that mean?"He suppressed a smile. "It means you know how the knives work. You feel them as an extension of yourself. When it comes to throwing, you always hit what you aim for. That's called control." Taking a deep breath he continued, "The only thing that you lack is physical strength." He smiled ruefully. "Putting it simply, I just have more physical force than you do."Staring into the murky depths of his eyes, I felt determination growing inside me. I needed strength. That was achievable. Something I could do on my own."How do I get stronger?""Well, practice. But since that isn't an option, try--" He was cut off by the bell tower chiming five minutes til eleven. He pushed me inside. "Hurry. I'll have Rotoski let you know next time I'm free."I protested, "But, you didn't say how to get stronger. I need to know!" He paused before starting back down the street. "Ask some of your friends. People have different ways. Try all of them, and see which way is hardest. Then do it."Confused, but determined, I ran up the stairs to my room, dumped my daggers into the chest and changed into my "work clothes" as I called them. Time for another day.

Last edited by Pascale d'Artagne on Tue Sep 11, 2012 11:25 pm; edited 1 time in total

I got to the butcher, got what I wanted- a nice cut of steak- and left in a hurry. Something didn't feel right when I got there, maybe I was just paranoid or something, but I felt like everyone was staring at me. There was a girl I thought I recognized there- red hair, freckles. Not sure why she was special, but for some reason I felt as though I'd see her again. I cooked the meat at a local's home- they weren't in, of course. Might as well leave a nice smell in there. I went home and dropped the leftovers in a bag for dinner tonight. I decided to go to the tavern, not like it mattered anyway. I've got enough gold to buy out the whole store, for once, so maybe I do deserve a little celebration drink. I put my daggers in my pant legs like always, then remembered that I'd been kicked out of there yesterday or the day before. Ah, whatever. What could happen? Get kicked out again? Eh, no biggie. I took 2 silver, enough for everything I would want, and strolled onto the tavern. It was about 11:30, so none of the worst where here yet. I sat down at a bar and ordered the regular- Boddington's Ale.

Plunking the mug down in front of the kid, I waited for him to try it. Although he hadn't drunk a drop yet, he appeared to be drunk with euphoria. "Why're you so happy, Cornelius?" His head snapped up, gaze latching onto mine. "How'd you know my name?""I asked around yesterday after you passed out, got in a fight, and passed out again," I answered wryly, with little malice. Things happened. There'd be another fight today, like as not. Picking up the mug, he nodded, accepting my answer. Some sort of criminal then, who doesn't like folks talking. Making the mental note, I shrugged. "Eh, I'll 'ave one o' dem ales too," someone commented, and I began filing another cup. Most of those who came here were, in their own way. Smugglers, thieves, mercenaries, spies...All found a safe haven in the depths of drink. No one got into anyone's business. If you rat on them, they'll tell on you. Street Code. Stopping the tap, I handed the ale to a blond haired man of forty. "Thankee," he smiled in the brief moments before his lips reached the cup. I smiled widely in response. It was reflex. Whenever someone smiled, I felt as if I had to smile back. Oh well, hasn't gotten me into trouble yet. Passing Cornelius on my way out to locate an errand boy, I teased, "If you pass out today, I'm not letting you in a second time." He smiled contentedly, seemingly oblivious to all concern. Understanding dawned on me as I wove through a few patrons on my way out the front door. He must have found a lot of money last night. Won't do him any good if other folks can read that grin on his face.Stepping through the open door, I called to a small boy sitting on the curb. "Hey, boy!" I yelled, not meaning to be rude. That is just the way one calls for an errand runner. He instantly stood up and trotted over. "Yes'm?" he asked smartly. Smiling, I handed him an envelope and a bronze coin. "Run this down that street two blocks and deliver it a number six." Nodding, he dashed off. I stood watching for a moment before going back inside. At least it's not too noisy yet. The bronze I'd found on the floor last night. Some customer had dropped it, a pretty rare occurence. It was to pay the boy. The envelope had my money for Mikel. In all, it amounted to two silver. Some was tip money, some from the floor, and a very little was my "pay" as Father termed it. Really, he didn't like me having money, but I had to have some, to run errands, buy food. Mikel was a good haggler, like any from the lower city, so he should be able to get the price of my stuff down to under one and a half silver. I shrugged philosophically. "Better safe than sorry," I muttered. "What's that?" a man asked, making me jump. I quickly flashed a smile. "Nothing. Just talking to myself." He nodded. "Fetch another, will you?" I took his mug. "Of course." As I passed the dark part of the room, a hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. I tensed, but relaxed as I recognized the dark voice. "Hey Zephyre, ye know who that man is?"I stepped into the shadow, joing Balthazar in his hiding. "No. You?""Yeah," he nodded grimly. "T's the leader of the smuggling operation this week. He's up to something.""D'ye want me to do something?" I asked. I often organized connections between my friends, so they could....exchange services.He shook his head. "No," he sighed finally, releasing his grip. "Jus', ye warn Rotoski, an mayhap ye can find something out from Mikel." Sliding out of the corner, I got to the counter, refilled the mug, and brought it back to the suspicious figure. I set it gently on the end of the table. The man was staring into space, conspicuously blue eyes drilling into the far wall. Not wanting to disturb him, I turned to leave. Once again, I was stopped by a hand, but this one was hard and unrelenting. "Whatever that man in the corner told you, it would be wise to ignore it," he growled softly. Cold coin was pressed into my hand as he released me. I nodded, trying to appease him, widening my eyes in fake fear. He seemed satisfied as to my silence, and I walked back to the bar. In the dim light, I saw a flash of gold as I transferred the coin to a secure pocket. I spent the next ten minutes filling orders from the safety of the counter. The man didn't really scare me, I just wanted him to think that. With my life, fear was a scarce thing. Somehow, I had to warn Bally and Toski. They came and went infrequently, going off to who knows where. The easy part would be talking to Mikel.

"Hey, girl." I said to the one attending the tavern. "'Nother one please." I said with a hiccup. I was on my third glass, having the greatest time of my life. I felt sort of high, just for the fact that with this money I wouldn't have to rob, kill, or maim anyone for at least half a year. It was a nice feeling, that for once I could get my own food. I had that strange urge to take out my daggers again. They felt hot against my legs. I don't know why I did it, because I knew that I would just end up being kicked out again, but I took them out and looked at them. A man notices me, and shouts "Ay, you! What do you think you're doing?" He was obviously just as drunk- or drunker than I was. He charged at me with a full force. I was sitting in a stool, so I did what I'd trained myself to do on instinct. I stuck one of my daggers so he ran into them, and he did. It went straight through him with a somewhat gruesome- and also satisfying- noise. I stood up and took my dagger out of him. It took a few seconds for the realization to hit me. I just murdered a man in front of the whole tavern. I still felt that high from all the money, so I thought I could control the situation. "Okay, everyone don't move, or you're next!" I said, trying to be forceful. One of the men chuckled, so I threw my dagger at him and it hit him square between the eyes. "Anyone else?" I said The room was silent. I retrieved my dagger from the second corpse, smiling.

Filling up Cornelius' glass, I missed seeing him stab the poor drunkard who was next to him. Turning his back to me, Cornelius faced the room, putting up a huge bluff. Slipping a knife from my upper left arm, I ghosted up behind him. However, I was too late to stop him from chucking a knife at another man. Now really mad, I came on him from behind, easily knocking the living daylight out of him with a knife hilt to the head. As he slumped to the ground, I took control of the room. Even if he did kill two men, I wasn't going to let him get torn to pieces by a mob. Sheathing my knife, I spoke into the silent tavern. "Everyone stay calm. Bally, go outside and call a boy for the doctor." I grabbed Cornelius and hauled him out of the tavern, this time dumping him on the ground three blocks away. Maybe now he won't come back, I thought wearily. Upon entering the tavern, I saw that the doctor was already there, a man with a wheelbarrow sitting outside. The doctor looked up from the man stabbed in the stomach. "Are you the owner of this place?" he asked dubiously. "No, but my father is unavailable." Meaning: he is laying upstairs suffering from and inebriation induced coma. He nodded, and got up to leave. "The man is dead," he said. "My man will bury them." It all happened so fast. The bodies were removed, and we all sat staring at the blood stained floor. I suppose I should mop it up.

I woke up with a massive headache. Again. I wasn't in my usual spot, two feet by the tavern. I stood up and my head throbbed. "Ohhh... My head.. Best go drink it off..." I walked, very unsteadily, to the tavern. Right before I entered, I realised that I'd murdered people in there. Probably wasn't the best way to get a drink, but I took out my daggers. I opened the tavern door to see people staring at me and back at the blood on the floor. Everyone was silent.The girl from earlier stared at me in shock, then pulled something from her sleeve and threw it at me. I easily knocked it off course towards a wall, barely missing another man's head. The process continued as more knives were thrown and I kept deflecting them. Done this before... I thought to myself. In not long, I'd crossed the tavern and put the tip of my dagger at the girl's throat and put my hand on her head. "Now, lets stop with the violence, shall we?" I said with a snicker. She stared at me for a second, then nodded. "Thank you." I said, and removed the dagger. I kept it out, but lowered it. "The usual, please." I asked, then sat down in my usual seat and waited for my usual ale as if it were a usual day.

Insolent boy. I hoped Father wouldn't wake up soon. He would come down, yell at the boy, and get a knife in the gut for his trouble. Gah, I ran out of knives. If I had just a few more..."Hey," the boy grunted, gesturing with his mug. I just picked up one from the counter beside me and gave it to him. I'd filed ten or so in preparation. Grabbing the mop from the corner closet, I walked out into the silent middle room. No one had left, except for the two dead men, and the suspicious stranger who tried to bribe me.Viciously, I slapped the floor with the mop, spraying water all over. Scrubbing vigorously, I slowly worked the blood out of the floor. Suddenly, my frustration flooded over, and I walloped Cornelius upside the head, resulting in a satisfying thwack! He slumped to the floor, and I began to drag him back outside. A hand on my shoulder stopped me. A few of the men, led by Javen, began to lift Cornelius. They carried him outside, silently, as if they were a funeral procession. Numbly, I watched them go. I asked the room at large, "What're they doing?""They're taking him to the Sewer King," Bally replied. I looked around skeptically at the nodding heads. "I thought that was a myth." "Nope." Oh. "I hope Cornelius learns his lesson then," I sighed. I turned to go back into the bar, but a voice stopped me."Zeph." I turned in suprise. "What?"Bally held forward one of my knives. To my surprise, I saw others standing behind him, each with one of my knives in their hands. I failed... The thought ran rampant in my mind. Silently, I accepted the knives, each from a different hand. "Hey, cheer up," Bally smiled, eliciting one from me in response. "Next time, just throw them harder.""How?" I wondered out loud.He laughed, and someone in the back, Hylar the forger, called out, "We'll help. Won't we?"They all laughed and huzzahed some. I smiled weakly. "Okay. But how?"Bally frowned. "Hmmm. I know." He put two corked wine bottles in my hands. "Athier, stand over there," he pointed to the far wall. I got the idea. Chucking the wine bottle at Athier was hard. It was heavy, too heavy. I need to practice.

I woke up with a massive headache for what seemed like the billionth time in the past day or two. I had some hands on my shoulders and feet. I looked up, two men were carrying me somewhere. Wherever it was, it reeked. I knew what I had to do. I sprang out with my legs which landed- very satasfyingly- straight in the man's genetalia. He crumpled on the floor, I put my legs down and threw the other man away from me and hauled ass the other direction. I had no idea where I was going. I was just running to be running. Not much else. I ducked into a corner, the men, who had both gotten up, ran past me. I smiled. No one ever looks to the left. I figured out that I was in the sewers, and that I had to get out fast. The Sewer king already wishes I was dead. He'd probably already been alerted I was here. I ran down the corridor and not long found what I wanted, a ladder out. I popped out of a manhole and laughed. That was way to close.. I thought.

I strolled home, thinking about that girl. She seemed good enough with knives, maybe I could train her. We obviously didn't get off to the greatest of starts. Maybe I could make it up to her. I pondered on top of the bank. I could actually see the girl from where I was, she was outside, throwing out trash. I couldn't throw a knife 1000 feet, so I couldn't contact her then. Maybe later. I waited until very, very late, then wrote a note. "I see you're good with knives. Want some help? I could teach you a thing or two.-C" He smiled. He would probably be slapped and knocked out, but it was worth a try. I sneaked across some roofs to land behind the tavern. I saw a window, and climbed the wall, rather noisily. I honestly didn't care. I saw the girl, asleep. I folded the note, and put it down on the bedside table. Then I dropped down, and went home, and fell asleep.